Robert Lindley Poet Rhyme

Broken and All Hope Lost, What Does One Do

Broken And All Hope Lost, What Does One Do

I am old, tired and I no longer want to write
the old kettle is broken and tea leaking out
Kitchen is a hot mess and floors are dirty too
the ancient windows are shattered, O' what a sight
just time to pack it in, of that there is no doubt!

Where does eagle fly when its feathers are all gone
into canyon walls crashing into a sad heap
Nature may speak loud and although man may ignore
we all end up buried and cast into white bones
with our destroyed dreams and that eternal deep sleep!

So tell me, what real Hope can you, my friends, now give
that an old dog can chew on that is not crushed rock
Lights are off, this cold hurts so and heat is not on
Fighting for my survival and this life still live
as the trumpet sounds and I hear that old tick tock!

I am old, tired and I no longer want to write
the old kettle is broken and tea leaking out
Kitchen is a hot mess and floors are dirty too
the ancient windows are shattered, O' what a sight
just time to pack it in, of that there is no doubt!

R.J. Lindley
November 10th, 1990
Rhyme,(Where Dark Shadows Prevail)

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Constance La France August 4, 2019 at 4:25 PM Robert, the emotion is dripping from every word of your excellent poem, you are not finished. Oh, Eagle, just smooth those wings and fly back to us ~

Andrea Dietrich August 4, 2019 at 1:18 PM Robert, because of the very raw emotion and meaning behind this, I find it one of your most incredible works. So sorry for what happened to you that you told us at the blog. This poem is incredible. A FAVE

Gregory Richard Barden August 4, 2019 at 1:05 AM (2) Each moment beyond that night in 2005 has been a gift, simply for the chance to love and FEEL love, and though it may be painful, I will keep tending that precious flower, and those things and folks that bring me joy, (like you, my friend). Walt Whitman saw Death as "the most delicious mystery" of all, but THIS - love, friendship, writing - is what I am and what I know, and that mystery can take its time ... if only for the sake of smelling the sweet bloom of life again. Blessings, Friend.

Gregory Richard Barden August 4, 2019 at 1:00 AM 1990 ... so you, (like most of us), have been there before. What keeps us coming back? I don't know, honestly, and with all happening in my life at present, I have little hope to give ... but I know THIS: I am ALIVE, 14 years longer than I should have been, and life, with all its many discouragements, is the grandest gift we are given, the ONLY thing we are guaranteed, and the only element in which love and joy and friendship can ever find purchase. (continued)

Muhammad Imtiaz February 24, 2018 at 12:04 PM hi Robert You painted death in a remarkable way . The fear of death makes us old , every creature is bound by this reality and no one can escape without having its taste. so beautiful write. excellent way

L. J. Carber February 9, 2018 at 1:10 PM A very powerful poem, Robert, as it delineates the power of death, which I think you see as 'the deep eternal sleep'. But perhaps death is merely a door, one some of us--all of us?-have gone through before, and our dreams-- and loves-- are never lost but 'stored' in the Cloud-- the really big cloud of the endless soul. You are right about the darkness my friend-- I experienced it 1/2 a century ago and so have sought the Light ever since, and you're right that it is never easy- God keep you all.

Darlene De Beaulieu January 26, 2018 at 2:07 PM Robert,this poem is great!!! I like this stlye. I hope you remember some of your poetry to re-write. Have a nice day my friend.

Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart January 22, 2018 at 10:41 PM I love that halfway through the third stanza I had to glance down at the date. Phew ;) excellent penning my friend. Hope you are well xomo Robert Lindley January 24, 2018 at 9:11 AM Thank you my friend. Very pleased you saw something in this piece my friend. Yes, I am now blessed with a wonderful wife and kids-so the needed light in my life is there. Tho' even now darkness sometimes descends. Such is its power..

Susan Ashley January 22, 2018 at 8:34 PM Oh Robert, such soul searching and heartbreaking imagery in your amazing poem. You are a master story teller, keep telling your stories, we hunger always for your poetic words! Warmest wishes sweet friend! ~Susan Robert Lindley January 24, 2018 at 9:08 AM Thank you my friend. I hope to keep on writing despite the dark forces attempting to stop me. I feel people need to know that life is not all kisses, roses and apple pie. And that no mater who you are-hope always exists for you.. As my poetry often shows, my past mistakes , and blessed recoveries that both hope and faith gifted..

Silent One January 22, 2018 at 3:34 PM No it is not time to pack it in my friend.. You wrote this 27 years ago and still you are writing wonderful poetry.. You are a great poet and one of the best I have read.. Never stop and never let things get in the way of you posting my friend.. Robert Lindley January 24, 2018 at 9:05 AM Thank you my friend. I am trying my best to cope with some serious health issues memory loss and other old age detriments. Writing poetry is a blessing but often a very hard task to perform, when the darkness invades and I must fight it with my all...